


FEVERISH

by glitterfucked



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Finger Sucking, First Time, M/M, Pon Farr, Some Plot, necking, porn with (some) feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 16:31:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1825009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterfucked/pseuds/glitterfucked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock is in the first stages of Pon Farr. Simple unoriginal mindless smut, with some feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	FEVERISH

**Author's Note:**

> [IF YOU ARE HERE FROM MY TWITTER, ARCY, YVES, ANY OF YOU, I HATE YOU, DO NOT READ THIS IT IS HONESTLY SO BAD, FUCK OFF, DIE.]
> 
> This is a rewrite of a fic originally posted on June 22nd, 2014, initially entitled Throats Bared.

Spock's gaze was fixed firmly on Jim. While an onlooker would have seen Spock listening intently to Jim's words— though Spock was certainly doing that, too— the Vulcan's eyes were focused on Jim's bare throat framed by his boy-next-door jawline above and his uniform shirt below. Spock was enthralled by the soft vibrations made as Jim spoke that only Spock would notice. He was not prone to fancy, as any Vulcan, but he would indulge in fantasy when it came to Jim. He knew his thoughts were shameful, but he was an expert at hiding them. When Jim finished delivering his anecdote, Spock returned to his station without responding. Some aspects of Terran humor still escaped him. Some of the officers on the bridge laughed, Uhura groaned exasperatedly, and Chekov appeared utterly confused. Jim didn't seem to care and continued to laugh at his own joke for a little longer than anyone else.

As Alpha shift ended, he informed Jim, as he always did, that he was retiring to his quarters. As Jim responded, Spock found his gaze drifting to the Captain's throat once more. He could imagine the heat radiating off of it and they way it would feel to slowly drag his lips down the exposed flesh. At that thought, Spock felt his body react shamefully. He quickly cut Jim off with an "aye sir" and nearly fled the bridge. 

When Spock reached his quarters, feverish, he dreaded what was coming. It was still too early. He was entirely sure of what was happening to his body and his mind reflected a myriad of negative emotions in response. He knew he should inform command of what was happening, and get to Vulcan, but the shame was great, and he was sure he could put it off. No, procrastination is illogical, he would do it now. But Spock rationalized in his mind that it would be even more illogical to take leave from his duties earlier than necessary. Pon farr could wait a few days, surely.

•••

After a long period of meditation, Spock felt confident enough to report to his next shift. He felt a little warm, but the fever wasn't in full effect, and he felt a little agitated, but not yet aggressive. Spock's shift was largely uneventful, but as time progressed, he found himself becoming more and more irritable. The chattering ensigns that passed by him fell silent as they approached and were met with his reproachful gaze. The other officers aboard the bridge caught on quickly and avoided the imposing man even more than usual, becoming slowly aware of his tight-lipped, silent fury. None dared to press, though Uhura gave him a questioning look as Spock responded curtly to one of Jim's inquiries a little too sharply. If everyone else was becoming aware, Jim was already hyper-aware of Spock's mood shift. Spock felt hot and his mind was clouding dangerously. Finally, he succumbed to his anger when Sulu laughed too loudly at something Jim said. Rather than snap, however, Spock felt an animalistic growl rise up in his chest and bubble out before he could choke it off. Everyone on the bridge turned to stare, including Jim, to see Spock turned around, looking at Sulu threateningly. It was only for a moment, though, and everyone quickly buried themselves in their work and ignored the event, leaving Spock flushed and embarrassed. Jim, however, could not let such an anomaly slip. He attempted to approach Spock stealthily, but Spock, in his state of heightened sense, inhaled Jim's particular scent before he heard his intentionally softened footsteps.

"Captain," Spock growled, without turning around. Jim reached out and hesitantly rested his hand on Spock's shoulder, urging his friend to turn around and face him. Spock did so a little too quickly, face an angry shade of arsenic, and Jim took a wary step back, his hand falling back to his side. Spock felt a little guilty for frightening him, but he crammed the feeling down into the maelstrom of other repressed emotions he was experiencing.

"Commander...?" Jim murmured worriedly. "Spock?"

"Aye, sir?" Spock responded impatiently. There was a moment of wary silence between them.

"Are you feeling okay?" Jim asked.

Spock remained silent. That was all the answer Jim needed.

"Spock, report to sickbay immediately," Jim ordered. "Something's clearly wrong with you." Spock felt another growl threaten to burst out of his chest, but he beat it back with all of his emotional force. He could tell that Jim sensed his indignity, but Jim only stared back with stubborn confidence. Spock relented and nodded sharply, and for the second day in a row, marched overly quickly off the bridge.

When he got to the sickbay, he felt disinclined to reveal his condition to Dr. McCoy. Instead, Spock informed him that he would be taking sick leave for the next several days due to illness that he had already diagnosed and was planning to treat with meditation. The good doctor seemed unconvinced, but he eventually allowed.

In his quarters, Spock felt little better. With no one else around, some of the agitation abated. Before he could actually gather himself and meditate, there was a knock at his door. He did not respond, but Jim entered anyway, apologizing. Jim had apparently stopped at his own quarters on the way and was dressed in only his casual black undershirt. Spock observed the ripple of Jim's muscles under his shirt for an overly long amount of time and Jim shifted under his gaze self consciously, waiting for Spock to make eye contact.

"Spock?" Jim said, eyes full of concern.

"Aye, sir—" Spock's voice cracked. Jim's eyebrows flew up and Spock knew Jim had noticed the falter. He cleared his throat. "Captain," he tried, some control regained.

"What's wrong? You weren't in sickbay when I stopped by...?" Jim inquired, the end of his sentence upturned into a question.

"I am not ill, Captain. I saw no need to linger," Spock responded. Jim took a hesitant few steps forward, the tension in the air palpable. Spock visibly bristled, the space between them electrifying. Jim hesitated, but continued to step closer until they were less than arm's length apart. Spock felt his control slacken, and a growl escaped his suddenly tight throat. Jim flinched.

"Are you sick?"Jim asked, eyes wide.Jim's scent hung in the air and it set Spock's instincts on fire. He wanted to pounce, to own. These were private thoughts that he would not ever share with Jim. Jim must have sensed in Spock's silence a shift in the emotional energy between them, because he took a step forward, this time more confidently.

"Spock," he hissed, irritation in his voice. "You're acting like a child. What's wrong?" Spock felt his pride smart at Jim's impetuousness. He took a threatening step closer and the gap between them was now so small he could feel the heat off of Jim's body and the warm breath from his lips. It was too much.

Spock lunged, grasping at Jim's collar. Jim was caught off-guard and tumbled backwards, landing unceremoniously on his ass. Spock took advantage of the position, leaned in, and kissed him. He gave just enough for Jim to roll him over and straddle his waist.

"What the hell," Jim hissed through his teeth. "Was that?" Spock panted as he reclaimed his senses momentarily. 

"Captain," Spock tried to say calmly, his voice an almost comical falsetto. Jim leaned down even closer to Spock, nose to nose. Spock's gaze flickered downward to the little bit of exposed pink flesh that was Jim's throat, his view obstructed by the angle. The Vulcan felt Jim's heart pulse against his own chest, quickly and erratically. His own heart was hammering in his side. Jim's lips found his after a moment of stillness and kissed Spock fiercely, biting his bottom lip to coax him open. Spock allowed easily. Spock bit his captain's lip and tugged, Jim moaning all the while. He rolled Jim over to straddle his hips, and Jim complied.

Jim reluctantly tugged out from under Spock just long enough to tug off his shirt, but Spock was quickly on him again. Spock found himself drifting again to Jim's throat as he slackened beneath him and they both found their way to the floor again, Spock taking over. He bit and sucked Jim's throat all over, not thinking at all of the consequences of leaving visible marks. Spock was asserting his dominance and possession by marking Jim, and Jim couldn't complain through his moans and whimpers. Spock slowed only to worship the feeling of Jim's soft, hot flesh beneath his own, and Jim's pulse against his lips. It was so much better than his fantasies. Their combined voices were a ragged cadence of sighs and moans. Spock impatiently hoisted Jim's hips into the air and the young captain resisted ever so slightly, enough to give Spock pause. He hesitated. 

In his moment of clarity, he loosened his grip on Jim, only then realizing his left hand was clutching Jim's hip possessively. He leaned backwards on his elbows, unsure of himself suddenly.

"Captain, are you--" Spock hesitated. "...Willing?" Jim appeared surprised.

"Are you asking for my consent?" He sat up in a rush and crawled on top of a paralyzed Spock, between his stiff knees. Jim kissed Spock again, softer than earlier but still urgently. He took Spock's left hand in his right and smiled against the kiss involuntarily.

" _Yes,_ " Jim breathed. " _Of course._ "

Jim had never, despite popular belief, had sex with a man. He pushed the initial flight response away and crawled on top of Spock. He kissed the silly Vulcan and Spock seemed to understand. Jim chalked it down to good old Vulcan touch telepathy. Jim knew for sure he'd been understood when Spock began kissing him back, and allowed him to hold his hand. Jim wanted to return the favor for all those wonderful, if slightly painful, hickeys. He knew just enough about Vulcan anatomy to attempt something he had always been curious about. Spock whimpered in the sexiest way possible when Jim licked his index finger, and again when Jim inserted Spock's first two fingers into his mouth and gave them a gentle suck. He wrapped his warm tongue around them and made a thorough mess of Spock's hands as he sucked and licked and nibbled all his fingers in a sporadic order. As he did so, he rubbed circles into each of Spock's palms with his thumbs, massaging and caressing both of Spock's hands until, finally, Spock's voice broke and he groaned. Jim grinned in satisfaction and clumsily pulled Spock's shirt up to his armpits, and Spock pulled it off the rest of the way. He released Spock's hands and inched his way downward, leaving a playful bite on Spock's hipbone. Spock's voice quieted but his breathing was still all kinds of erratic. Jim shrugged Spock's pants and briefs down at once, and with no small amount of hesitation, took Spock into his mouth. Jim had never been with a man before, never met one he liked that way. But this was _Spock._

Jim figured, having received a few in his lifetime, that a blow job couldn't be that hard. He wasn't necessarily wrong, but he found he had difficulty taking Spock's full girth to the hilt, and when Spock started bucking his hips Jim was afraid he was going to gag. Spock was gracious enough to choke out a cracked warning. 

"J-Jim, I am going to..." Jim understood. He didn't need Spock to finish his statement. Jim unbuttoned his pants and took himself in his hands clumsily, hurriedly. While he knew what was coming, it only spurred him to work harder, his head bobbing faster and his tongue swirling as Spock tangled his fingers in Jim's short hair and gave one final, sharp buck, cumming into Jim's mouth and down his throat, nearly choking him. Jim popped off and Spock, when he opened his eyes, watched as Jim swallowed, mottled throat bobbing. He spluttered just a bit, wiping his nose as hot fluid made its way out of his nasal cavity. Through hooded lids, Spock watched Jim lick his lips clean. Jim felt a little self-conscious and his face flushed horribly, the heat alerting him to the awful shade of red he must be. He did not make eye contact with Spock as he continued to stroke himself, but Spock watched with a steady gaze, eventually reaching down to take over as he kissed Jim's neck. When Jim finished into Spock's hand, Jim took it upon himself to clean Spock's fingers with his tongue, making an even sloppier mess of the whole thing. Spock retracted his wet fingers and both men panted, Jim limp atop him. Jim, in his post-coital bliss, did not yet feel the embarrassment or self consciousness that would come later when he extracted himself from Spock's hold to clean himself. Spock sat up, Jim on his knees before him. Jim, in a rush of romantic inspiration, tugged Spock close for a quick, chaste kiss. There was a moment of heavy silence between them as they both searched each other's eyes. 

"Jim..." Spock murmured in a deathly serious tone. Jim waited patiently for his response. "I have a problem you may be able to solve."

•••

It would be a good few days before either left their cabins, having alerted the crew to a serious private medical issue.

Bones didn't make the mistake of barging in on them using his override code more than once.


End file.
